So I’ve finally released an eBook that’s gaining some modest traction. It’s called the little book of SITCOM, and since you’ve been looking over my shoulder for the past year or so as I’ve tried to start a fire in this little self-publishing model of mine, I thought I’d share both the story of how it came about and a couple of key lessons we can take away.

Years ago, as some of you know, I wrote a book called The Comic Toolbox: How To Be Funny Even If You’re Not. It was, and remains, a steady seller because it makes the inviting promise to new writers (both of comedy and not) that, hey, this is easy and you can do it, too. Well, the book came to the attention of some guys in London who were writing a book about writing situation comedy, and wanted to borrow a concept or two from my work. Of course I was flattered, and agreeable, but when I took a look at their manuscript, I realized that there was much more to say on the subject of sitcom than they had addressed in their slender (15,000 word) effort. So I proposed to write a “companion” to their book, of roughly the same length, amplifying and expanding upon their themes by sharing some of the tricks and tips I’ve accumulated in two decades of writing situation comedy and teaching others to do the same. For a percentage of their royalties, I would let them exploit my content in the United Kingdom, while reserving the right to publish it myself here at home. Of course the concepts of “there” and “here” are a bit murky on this globalized globe of ours, but in practical terms it came down to this: they got Amazon.co.uk and I got Amazon.com.

I sat down and whipped out the text in two weeks. It came in at 22,000 words, and I purposely put the word “little” in the title, so that buyers would know that they were getting a small, modestly priced workbook, and not some giant tome. Well, almost from the moment I released it, and without much marketing muscle from me, the book has turned into a steady seller. I think there are a few reasons for this. [Read more…]

In third grade, they made us learn how to juggle. We started with scarves, because they have good hang time in the air, and they don’t make any noise if — okay, when — you drop them. So picture a room full of 8 and 9 year olds throwing these dingy, neon-colored squares of cloth all over the place. Worst PE class ever, right? I mean, what does juggling have to do with anything? Couldn’t we have climbed the monkey bars or played kickball instead?

Now that I’m an adult, I recognize that juggling is an everyday part of our lives. Figuratively, of course. But the principles of literal juggling still apply.

Start with one scarf. Establish a rhythm. Let your hands get used to the motion, until you don’t even have to think about it anymore.

Add additional scarves one at a time. The learning curve can be steep, and there’s no reason to go to the next level until you master the one you’re on.

Go at your own pace. Like most things in life, juggling is not a race, so take your time to do things right and set yourself up for success.

If you drop something, don’t panic. You can keep going and pick it up later, or you can pause to get it now. Either way, it’s not life or death.

Not so long ago, “being a writer” might have cost us our sanity, consumed countless hours each day and caused us to opt out of paying jobs, but it didn’t actually require spending money.

Those days are over.

A veritable writing industry has emerged in the wake of the digital revolution, complete with webinars, seminars, conferences and manuscript consultations available to all — for a fee. Amid today’s fierce competition, writers with professional aspirations know how important it is to partake in these. Regularly.

At the same time, we all know that authors are becoming increasingly responsible for most or all of their publicity expenses. With advances shrinking, too, that means emptying pockets, dipping into savings.

And with the rise of e-books and easy self-publishing, all writers have the opportunity to reach large audiences directly. But building the awareness it takes to reach them, and appealing to them with a respectable level of professionalism, requires cash.

Yet somehow, the gritty, romantic notion of pinching pennies while quietly scratching out our drafts, of using advances to fix leaky roofs or pay off credit card balances then doing everything from building web sites to pitching the media by ourselves, continues to shape many writers’ choices. We ask friends to copy-edit our manuscripts. We design our own book covers. And publicity? Forget it. Once the book is out, we tweet about it, do a few book club events, contact a local paper, cross our fingers and start writing something new.

But those of us who truly want to establish a niche as an author and give our books a fighting chance to sell MUST come to terms with the fact that in this day and age, [Read more…]

Therese here. Today’s guest is Annie Neugebauer, who’s here to talk about how to be a more confident writer. Annie is an award-winning poet, and a writer of short stories and novel-length works. Her writing has appeared in–or will soon in appear in–the following publications and venues: Underneath the Juniper Tree, The Spirit of Poe, So Long and Thanks For All the Brains: A Zombie Anthology, Six Sentences, the British Fantasy Society journal Dark Horizons, and the National Federation of State Poetry Societies’ prize anthology Encore. Take it away, Annie!

Be a More Confident Writer: 5 Choices That Might Be Hurting Instead of Helping

A writer’s self-esteem is a valuable, tenuous thing. That comes with the trade. In a field of work that’s bursting with advice, rejections, and critique, how can anyone avoid occasional self-doubt?

I’m not here to make you immune to negative thoughts. (Hey, I’m not a magician.) But I am here to point out some of the problems that might be gnawing at the edges of your belief in yourself, your career, and your talent. Here are five things that can be detrimental to a writer’s sense of self, plus why and how to avoid them.

Last weekend, I attended a conference for long-time published writers, where a host of industry insiders offered their insights on the changing face of publishing. Because of the NINC standards (only authors with two books or more published can join) and the desire to keep the discussion vibrant and flowing, I can’t share many details, but I can share the general spirit.

When asked what authors should be doing now, to deal with the wild changes in our business, the insiders said, over and over again, PLAY! Experiment with short forms and long ones. With writing what you really want to write, with taking the work, the art, to the limit.

Doesn’t that sound like fun? All too often, writers are so anxious to “get it right” that they study and study and study the market, making notes on what’s selling, who’s buying, and where things land on the list, that they forget why they became writers in the first place. We worry and worry and worry. What should I write? What will give me a bigger audience?

Instead of that, let’s step outside the box for a minute. What would play look like for you? Do you ordinarily write long? Try writing short. Try playing with poetry. Are you a genre writer? Try writing something outside your usual sandbox. If you’re a literary fellow, try your hand at the genre you cut your teeth on—maybe a mystery story or a fantasy epic. Maybe you’ve always wanted to see if you had it in you to do Y or Z. Give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?

I have had what I call a Sunday book in the back of my mind for quite awhile. It tickles me awake, kicks me sometimes while I’m walking, and once I finish the material due at my publisher this week, I’m going to take a month and just see what happens with it. (Come by my blog, A Writer Afoot, for more information…in three days.) You can read along.

I urge you to play, too. Especially with NaNoWriMo coming up next week, give yourself permission to write the story YOU would most like to hear. Do it with joy. With exuberance, with a sense of possibility. And maybe that’s going to be the story that we ALL want to hear.

Do you remember what your first stories were about? Can you see that influence in the work now? If you could write anything, what would it be?